


Pete Has a Plan, Patrick Isn't Sure He Likes It

by suewritesthings



Series: Van Days [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: 2005 era peterick, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Peterick, Van Days, here we go have some fic, what even is this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4025119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suewritesthings/pseuds/suewritesthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>pete likes patrick......patrick likes pete???</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is for ryan. sorry about this.

patrick wasn’t sure he’d ever had this much fun on a tour. then again, he thought, running one hand over hat sitting on his hair, sweat making the tufts of hair underneath stick to his forehead, he hadn’t really been on many tours. and, oh, shit, he thought, grinning, he was on fucking TOUR. he was on tour, with his band, in a fucking small van they could barely fit in and he was hanging out with other people who GOT him. who understood his need for music and how it just ran through his veins instead of blood (pete had told him once, most likely while stoned out of his mind, that if he ever was impaled, musical notes would come out instead of blood, and patrick had just nodded and patted him on the head). 

 

and he got to be on tour with three of his best friends, he thought, heading towards said van. joe and andy were great, and they’d gotten close, but pete....pete was something else entirely, patrick thought, huffing out a laugh as he wove through the crew and band members milling around the general corral of vans and buses. pete was weirdness at three am and demanding cotton candy. pete was night terrors that made him laugh like a loon while he read comics in the back of the van at one in the morning. pete was huddled in black hoodies and resting his head on patrick’s shoulder and whining about how no one should let him drink, and GOD, TRICK, it’s YOUR job to keep an eye on me. yeah, patrick thought, there really wasn’t anyone like pete.

and he was hoping pete was in the van. or near the van. or somewhere in the vicinity of the van, because their sets were over and he was kind of bored and wanted someone to hang out with. and not that andy and joe weren’t great, no, that wasn’t it at all, there was just….something about pete, he thought again, ignoring the small pang at the back of his heart every time he thought about pete, per usual. he wasn’t in denial, he insisted, tugging open the van door. there was nothing to be in denial about--

he froze, eyes widening slightly at the sight in front of him. because there, in the hoodie with the frayed sleeves he knew pete chewed on when he was nervous or excited, was pete. with mikey way. and one of those sleeves was cupped gently around the sharp curve of mikey’s jaw and patrick could see their mouths moving together slow, and almost soft, almost a little too gentle for him to be watching, too sweet for it to be something he was supposed to be witnessing. but at the same time, mikey had his hand gripped tightly around pete’s wrist and patrick could tell there was no inherent sweetness about what was happening and he caught how tightly pete’s fingers were gripping into mikey’s jaw, and no, he couldn’t watch this any longer, and he made some small, startled noise in the back of his throat that caused pete’s eyes to flutter open and flick to him before patrick slammed the van door and stalked away, hands shaking for reasons he couldn’t quite figure out.


	2. Pete's Idea Isn't Working

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pete's idea might not have been great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literal trash. for ryan.

“mikey waaaaaayyy” pete whined it from the corner of the seat he was shoved into in the van, fiddling with his hoodie sleeves, winding the string from the hood around his fingers and back off again. he kicked the seat mikey was in. “mikey waaaaayyy.”

 

“what, dude, seriously, fuck off,” mikey answered absently, slapping one hand at pete, a move pete evaded easily, cackling. he was bored, had been bored for about an hour, since their set had ended, and had wandered around until he’d found mikey, whom he had then dragged to the van with him for “shenanigans, bye gee, i’m stealing your brother” but then once they got there both realized the van wasn’t where they wanted to be.

and if he was going to be totally honest, pete had been hoping patrick would be in the van, because pete liked patrick. had grown to really be fond of the little kid with the stupid trucker hats and sideburns that didn’t fucking quit and patrick defended mercilessly, the kid who let him nuzzle into his neck when he was hungover and didn’t moan and whine when pete nuzzled into his neck when they were playing becuase sometimes, god, sometimes patrick’s voice just HIT pete, you know? just hit him when patrick crooned out one of the higher notes and pete just had to try to get as close to him as possible because he thought if there was a god, he’d created an angel in patrick stump and patrick’s voice was just trying to get back to heaven where it belonged.

when he’d told mikey that, mikey had blinked at him, slowly, while frank had started laughing and gee had just looked slightly bemused. “dude,” mikey had said, “you’re so in love with that little shit.”

but he WASN’T, pete insisted, had been insisting. which was the other reason he’d dragged mikey to the van. mikey was pretty. sure, he was more gangly and a little more stick-insect-y than patrick, who was soft and sweet and precious and innocence, but mikey had this….edge on him, for all the gee looked out for him, and pete was intrigued by the edge. not as intrigued by the soft innocence that was patrick, but intrigued enough to drape himself over the seat and poke mikey in the leg. “hey. hey, dude,” he said, brushing bangs out of his eyes when mikey looked up from his sidekick, eyes bored. “i wanna try something.”

“NO.” the answer was immediate, and pete rolled his eyes, grinning, and caught mikey’s look of calculation as he leaned in. paused for one second to see if mikey would stop him, and then pressed their mouths together, fingers gripping the side of mikey’s face, and he feels mikey’s fingers wrap around his wrists as he nips gently at mikey’s mouth, licking his way gently inside his mouth and not pretending at all, nope, that he was kissing someone else, someone without sharp planes and angles for a face, someone whose glasses would get in the way--

and then the van door opened and pete was vaguely aware of someone standing there, but when he opened his eyes at the small noise he half thought he heard, he saw patrick standing there and then running, door slamming behind him, and well shit, pete thought as mikey broke the kiss, pushing away from him and smirking.

 

“so how well did your experiment work?” he asked, looking back down at his sidekick as though they hadn’t just been making out, and wow, pete kind of envied mikey’s concentration, to be honest.

“well,” he said slowly, the inside of his mouth tasting foreign, like mint toothpaste and cigarettes he didn’t smoke, “i think i’m in love with patrick.”

mikey snorted. “no shit.”

 

“i think i should tell him.”

“yeah, pete, go do that.”


End file.
